“Breakers ahead!” thought I. “Yaw away, old Bill May, afore you strike.”
Every saw me at that minute.
“You, May,” he roared, nasty, “I believe you do not love this way; get
down to your cabin.”
But see what the king’s evidence said about me. One Creagh, a dirty
wretch, and now a prisoner right in this gaol for treason with Captain
Vaughan, and one time aboard the _Charles the Second_, witnessed that
at this going-off of the ship, “I met with William May, the prisoner at
the bar. ‘What do you do here?’ says he. I made him no answer but went
down to my cabin, and May swore at me and said, ‘You deserve to be shot
through the head,’ and he held a pistol at my head.”
Can you imagine a man who has fought for his king and country being a
party to the crime of stealing the ship of a fellow subject? Not only
that. The ship’s carpenter was a ringleader with Mr. Every in this
insurrection, and Creagh--may he be eaten alive with weevils--swore the
carpenter said in his hearing--
“Old May I can trust with anything; he is a true cock of the old game
and an old sportsman.”
Was ever such a farrago told in a king’s court?
Me, an old bird at the pirate game--me, an old sportsman--me, who
would not demean myself to wipe my boots on that carpenter’s neck! Sam
Parsons, who is now in Virginia, was standing by when Every drove me to
my cabin, and he would swear to my truth.
But does the king call him? Nay. But such treasonable scandalizers
as Creagh--they get the run of the deck. Would the king, begging his
Majesty’s pardon, bring a witness from Virginia to save a poor sailor’s
life? Ask him!
I could not stay down in the cabin for thinking of my old commander and
what might be happening to him. I almost cried for my old commander.
At the risk of my head I went to his cabin. Two men stood guard at the
door with naked cutlasses; I begged leave to go in, and at length they
allowed me.
Oh, my poor old commander! He was red with fever, and the chirurgeon
was anointing his temples. He got out of bed and began to dress
himself, with me there to lend him a steadying hand.
“Ah, faithful May--” he was saying, when in came Mr. Every, smelling of
grog, and with a most impudent look.
“I am a man of fortune, Captain,” he said, making a bow, “and my
fortune I must seek.”
“I am sorry this happens at this time,” said my poor old commander.
“Come with us, Captain, and you shall still have the command,” replied
Mr. Every.
Says Captain Gibson:
“No. I never thought you would have served me so, who have been kind to
all of you; and to go on a design against my owner’s orders I will not
do it.”
“Then,” said Mr. Every, “prepare to go ashore.”
What honest sailorman would not be plowed in his feelings by his old
commander’s plight? Should I have been ashamed though my tears dropped
upon the captain’s trembling hand? He looked kindly upon me as I stood
there still in my shirt and stockings.
“Go, faithful May,” he said at last. “Nothing will avail now.”